Trish lived in a bungalow four blocks away from the sheriff’s office. When she’d first come to Magnolia, she’d rented the one bedroom renovated home. After solving a cold case within three hours of arriving, she figured she could probably put a down payment on the structure.
Now she regretted even coming out here.
She’d left Levi poring over her binders in the conference room. He’d barely grunted at her when she left. The sun had gone down, her paperwork was mostly done, and now she had a few hours to rest before going back at the case in the morning.
The street she lived on stretched for miles, heading back toward the desert. As far as she knew, she had no neighbors in that direction and only one, an elderly woman, that she passed on her way home.
She pulled into the driveway and shut the car off. And sat there.
She’d seen things. Bad things. How could you not when you were a homicide detective? All her training was in big cities and in big cities, people did a lot of things to each other. Lots of shootings, stabbings, even murder with an ax once. But nothing like this. Nothing.
Trish shoved open her car door and crunched through her driveway to the door. The real estate agent proudly proclaimed that Trish would never have to lock her door, the town was just that safe. Trish not only locked her door, but had a dead bolt installed.
Only a light in the kitchen spread a soft glow throughout the open floor plan. Trish automatically locked everything behind her and blew out a breath. So good to be home. She pulled her shoes off, then her socks, wiggled her toes against the hard wood floor, then went barefoot into the bedroom.
Here she flipped a light on and moved slowly around the room, stripping off her jacket and tossing it toward the hamper. She tugged her pants off, too, left them lying on the floor and headed straight for the bathroom.
A shower. Just a nice, cool shower.
She pulled the elastic out of her hair and stripped the rest of her clothes off while the water began blasting from the pipes. Whoever had owned the bungalow before her had converted the smaller, second bedroom into an en suite bathroom to die for. There was a massive walk in shower, a huge tub for bubble baths, a double vanity, and even a smaller room that held the toilet.
Trish stepped into the stream of water and let it hit her in the face.
What a shit day.
The body, what was left of the body, still turned her stomach. Like the first had. Like the second had. The thought that someone gnawed on the bones, not a coyote, but a someone, made her gag reflex almost kick in. And if the body wasn’t bad enough…
Levi. Big, hulking, stupid Levi. Levi who probably wasn’t stupid at all.
She ducked her head under the water and held there, letting the tears that built all afternoon come to crest on her lashes. Here she could pretend that it was water rolling down her cheeks, not tears. She wished, God how she wished, that these tears were for the victim and not herself.
Coming here from Atlanta had been a huge mistake.
Back in the bedroom, she heard a soft tinkling sound.
“Shit.” She wrenched the water off and grabbed a towel, hurriedly wrapping it around herself. She dripped all the way into the bedroom, wiping the tears away, putting on her game face. The medical examiner hadn’t called her that afternoon, this had to be him.
But when she pulled her phone out, she saw a number from the station.
She frowned and answered. “Redding.”
“The first body was missing a kidney. The second was missing a lung. When were you going to tell me?”
Levi. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s all there.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Yet you can’t just tell me?”
“Fine. The first body was missing a kidney. The second body—”
“Yeah, yeah, smart ass. It’s not on your wall. Why the fuck not?”
His growl pattered through the phone and skittered down her spine. She had to remember this was the enemy, that he couldn’t make her feel anything unless it was anger. She wouldn’t let him. “Up until today, I was under the impression that coyotes had gotten to the bodies—”
“Bullshit. You saw the marks on these bones just like we all did. Teeth. Human teeth. And so a missing lung and a missing kidney didn’t mean anything?”
Anger spurted through Trish, real live anger that made her want to scream. “How dare you? How dare you call me and insinuate—”
“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m saying it point blank. You didn’t put this on your wall. I want to know why.”
“You need to stop interrupting me!”
“You need to stop hiding things from me!”
“I wasn’t hiding it from you!” Trish shouted. She took a deep breath and padded over to the bed, dropping onto it in a heap. “Can we just talk about this tomorrow?”
“No.”
His stern voice made her eyes narrow. She ran a hand through her barely wet hair. “You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She sighed and looked around her comfy bedroom. When she came out here, she’d wanted to build a life. Build a career. Now the mayor wanted her gone. And she didn’t know why, other than he hated women. But maybe he just hated her. Her past. Her everything.
“The mayor wanted this to be Satanic.”
The line hummed but Levi said nothing.
“So you want me to slap up on my wall that these bodies are missing organs? The bones have human teeth marks? That man is in my office every day.”
“You have to do your job,” Levi pointed out.
“That’s why I have the binders,” Trish said. “Look, we can talk about this tomorrow. I’ll be there at five—”
“No. Who does he want you to arrest?”
Ah. There was the crux of the matter. The mayor had his enemies, didn’t he?
“I’m not his personal jailer,” Trish spat. “I’m not going to start dragging people in because he says so.”
“Who?”
Trish didn’t answer.
“Who?” Levi asked again, this time more forcefully.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said through gritted teeth. “And I mean it. Let me get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Trish…”
“No,” she retorted. “Just…no. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. She half expected him to call back. She kind of wanted him to. But the phone remained silent even after she stared at it for a moment.
Why did Levi have to be so handsome? Why couldn’t he have been a fat former FBI agent who left most of his lunch on the front of his shirt? Why did he have to be so goddamn fuckable?
Trish dropped back on the bed, the intensity of the day thrumming her body. Seeing Levi step out of that car had destroyed her. Her libido went into overtime and she hated every second of it. Something about him called to her in the most basic way possible. Probably because she hadn’t gotten laid since moving here. Probably because getting laid in Atlanta hadn’t been a priority either.
She wanted to take out all her anger on Levi. Use him to focus her rage on. Instead she felt the anger turn to liquid in her veins. His huge muscles would feel good against her skin. She bet that beard would feel good against her thighs.
Trish moaned. Her legs slid apart, the towel sliding off her hip. Exposing her.
She thought about Levi. About those strong shoulders, his handsome face, his deep voice. All the things she’d craved in a man for so long. She wondered what it would be like to have his strong fingers caress her breasts, her legs, her belly.
Her fingers tripped along the places she thought of, pretending it was him. She rubbed her palm against her pussy, feeling the heat and the wet. She squeezed and parted her lips, finding her clit immediately and flicking it with her finger. But she wasn’t ready to come just yet. She wanted this fantasy to play out. Because no doubt that’s all she’d ever have was this fantasy.
She closed her eyes and imagined him coming in her room, pulling her towel off and looking his fill of her. With her other hand she reached up and cupped a breast, pinching her nipple, then moving to the other one.
And when he saw her do that, he’d love it, of course. He’d let her play, let her pinch and pull on her own nipples. Maybe soothe them with thick licks of his tongue, drenching her pussy further. Then he’d lower down to his knees, pushing her legs up and out, putting her feet on his shoulders. And he’d bend that gorgeous head of his and lick once, twice, then plunge that beautiful tongue of his deep inside her. He’d do that, then follow with his thick fingers, the rings cold against her flesh. He’d run a finger over her entrance, collecting the moisture, then shove deep inside, curling his fingers up into her G-spot. She’d be soaked, of course, what with all the licking, the sucking, the anticipation. Then he’d take one of those big, bold fingers, already dripping with her juices, and he’d swipe behind her, feeling her out. And even though she’d never wanted to have anyone near her ass, his thick index finger would swirl inside of her while his tongue sucked her clit and his middle finger lodged deep inside her pussy…
Trish choked out a cry, her legs shaking. Her eyes opened to see her ceiling, the popcorn she so hated, the ceiling fan spinning lazily.
Her fingers deep inside her set off shock waves through her body. More than anything she wished it had really been Levi down on her. Licking her. She wished this orgasm hadn’t been like all the others she’d had, lonely and self-imposed.
She lay there a moment, getting her breathing back to normal, wishing that there had been no fantasy, but also wishing that Levi was here, over her, spilling his come on her belly.
Then she remembered who she was. Where she was. What the events of the day had held. Not only would Levi never be her lover, but it was foolish to use him as a fantasy. A great fantasy, but a fantasy nonetheless.
She sat up, her head spinning a little with the force of her orgasm. Her shoulders slumped and she headed back to the bathroom, tossing her towel on the vanity. None of this meant anything. Tomorrow was going to be a horrible day. Tomorrow she had to spill this town’s secrets.
*****
Mayor Bernard Charles Elliott sat back in his leather chair and regarded the sheriff. The latter sat in a ladder back chair across from the mayor, his spine rigidly straight and his hat in his lap.
“Well, Rocky?”
The sheriff flicked his uneasy gaze to the mayor. Mayor Elliott enjoyed that unease. “Mr. Mayor?”
“What do you think?”
After driving back from the crime scene, the mayor had insisted the sheriff spend the afternoon with him and then join him for dinner. He was certain they’d hear from the medical examiner or even the detective. Since they hadn’t, the mayor now had sheriff Rocky Grande sitting in the most uncomfortable chair he owned.
The sheriff furrowed his brow. “Sir?”
“About your star detective? And my man?” He leaned forward just a bit. “Who do you think will win?”
“Win, sir? This isn’t a game.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” the mayor gritted out. “Someone out there is killing folks and we need to find out who they are.”
“The medical examiner should be able to match dental records for the victims—”
“Not the victims, you imbecile. The bloody murderer.” Mayor Elliott did his best not to shout at the sheriff, but his impatience was plain. “I have lived in this town my whole life, Grande. And for that woman to insinuate that someone from this town is the murderer is an insult, plain and simple. You’re sure you got her off that crazy idea?”
The sheriff said nothing.
Mayor Elliott narrowed his eyes and frowned. “I see. So I guess we’ll have to up the stakes.”
“The stakes, sir?”
“Yes,” the mayor hissed. “I refuse to let this town die. And I refuse to be the site of a serial killer. You take the next call.”
“Maybe there won’t be another—”
“You take the next call,” the mayor interrupted. “You go out there and you take care of it. Do you know what I’m saying?”
The sheriff paled. “Sir, you don’t mean—”
“I do. You move that body somewhere else. I’ll be damned if she destroys this town.”
“But if someone is killing people…and that someone lives here—”
“That someone doesn’t live here,” Mayor Elliott insisted. “Right?”
Grande opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
The mayor ignored him and went on. “I brought that professor in so he could agree with me about the satanic cult. Then the next body, you move it, dispose of all information and evidence of it being near Magnolia or our county. I’ll take care of getting the murderer.”
“What do you mean, ‘getting the murderer?’”
“Just what I said, Sheriff. Someone’s committing the crimes, aren’t they? We need someone to do that. And I have just the person in mind.”
The mayor grinned at the sheriff but was unconcerned when Grande did not grin back. Mayor Elliott would take care of this. No taint of murder would touch his town of Magnolia.
Never.